


Okay

by sapphicanary



Category: I Am Not Okay with This (TV 2020)
Genre: Blood, Gore, Suicidal Thoughts, Swearing, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-02-23 11:15:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23044048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphicanary/pseuds/sapphicanary
Summary: The aftermath of Bradley Lewis' death shook several people's worlds, but three particular people are brought closer by the (slightly) tragic event.
Relationships: Sydney Novak/Dina
Comments: 12
Kudos: 146





	1. PART ONE // SYDNEY GOES ON A RUN

_Iron?_ Why did she smell iron? Where was it coming from? It was overwhelming, rapidly filling her nose from anything else. 

She blinked.

Her eyes adjusted to the scene in front of her, her ears finally tuned into the screams, her body felt the force of frantic, terror-filled classmates pushing past her in their attempt to flee the room.

She tried to find something to focus on but everything was red. The floor, the people. She brought her hands to her head and doubled over, her mind racing to process. When she pulled them away her eyes caught the red that stained her hands. Tears stung the corners of her eyes.

Blood. Oh, _God_ , it was blood. Everything was red because it was blood. And it was on her. The blood was fucking _on_ her. On her dress, in her hair, in her mouth. She got pushed again and this caused her to look up and her eyes focused on something worse, something that made her feel weak and like she would vomit.

A body laid on the gymnasium floor, more blood oozing from the giant whole in the neck where a head should be. No one stopped to look, no one stopped to cry over it, everyone just ran, screaming and crying.

Sydney stumbled backwards, her mouth hanging open, nausea rising in the back of her throat. _I did that_ , she thought, turning and tearing her eyes away from the body.

 _I did that,_ she thought again as she stepped from the school. Tears started falling from her eyes and she didn't bother trying to hide them. She never liked crying in front of other people, but now she didn't care.

Sydney found herself on the road, distant sirens blaring as they raced to the school. How would they make sense of it? What could they find that would link it to anything other than some freak accident? Could there possibly be something that would point them to her?

Even if they didn't find anything, even if they ruled it as drugs or some other bullshit thing to try and explain it, she would know. She would have to live with the guilt of what she had done.

She started running. 

Everything passed by in a flash. Buildings, people, trees. Street lights flickered unnaturally above her, though she took no notice. Eventually she felt the scratches of bushes and thorns on her legs, but she barely registered them at all. She had no idea where she was going, her mind was a void except for one word: _murderer_.

She was a murderer, plain and simple. What other word would there be? This wasn't some kill or be killed situation, it was straight up murder. No one would believe that she hadn't meant to do it. But she had just wanted him to stop, stop talking, stop taunting, stop... breathing. 

Sydney let out a sob, collapsing to the cold forest ground. Her shoulders shook as she continued to cry and scream. She heard the sharp _crack_ of wood as her power surged through her and a tree fell behind her. She refused to look back, refused to acknowledge it. Fuck that, fuck her, fuck her powers, and _fuck_ her dad for giving them to her.

Sydney pulled her legs to her chest and let her head fall onto her knees, her whole body shaking with adrenaline and fear and shame. God, she just wanted to be held. Held by someone, anyone, her mom, Stan, Dina—

"Oh, God." She let out a sharp cry. Dina. What was she going to do? She had just exploded her boyfriends— _ex_ -boyfriends—head in front of her. Maybe if she explained. Maybe Dina would get it. "No, you can't tell Dina. You can't tell Dina. You can't tell Dina," she muttered through her tears. Sydney lifted her head. Her face crevices were marked along her legs, them having wiped some of the blood away from them. 

_Brad's_ blood.

Sydney shut her eyes tightly, taking a few shaky breaths. "Fuck me," she said. She stood, swaying slightly, before grabbing onto a tree stump for support. _Okay, okay, okay_. She had to keep moving. Keep her mind occupied. She starting walking, continuing in the direction she had been going before.

Before long, she came to a watch tower and without even thinking, began climbing to the top. She was almost positive it was the same watch tower Stan had told her about a few days ago when he had been rambling about history facts. When she reached the top, she stood at the railing, eyes scanning the horizon. She took a deep breath, no longer shaking. 

Her mind was empty again, not that she minded. Sydney was glad actually. She didn't want to think about Brad or her powers or Dina or anything else. She just wanted to stand and watch the moon and stars in the sky and pretend. Pretend her dad was still here, pretend she didn't have powers, pretend she wasn't in love with her best friend, pretend none of this ever happened.

But it was peaceful for only a moment. She felt the hairs on the back on her neck stand straight up and goosebumps rose on her arms. Her blood turned cold and she whipped around just as a hooded figure stepped out of a cloud of black smoke. "Should I be afraid?" was all she could make herself say, something in her already telling her no.

Sydney could hear the smile in his voice as he responded: "They're the ones who should be afraid. Let's begin."


	2. PART TWO // STANLEY SEES A GHOST

"Sydney!"

Stanley ran, his breath heaving, adrenaline pumping through his veins, something heavy in his suit pocket flapping at his sides. He had to get to Sydney, he had to find her. Screams and police sirens were still blaring in his ears even though it was over an hour after he had left the school. Stan wasn't stupid, he may not have seen what had happened, but he knew. 

Sydney killed Brad Lewis.

There wasn't any other explanation for it. Maybe if his head had been decapitated by scaffolding or something having fallen on him, _then_ he could believe it wasn't her. But no, his head was gone, blown up. Stan had no freaking idea how she could do it. He didn't really understand how she could do any of it, actually. But blowing up someone's head? That was a step up from telekinesis.

Stan knew Sydney didn't do it on purpose. He had seen what she could do when she got mad, what she _unintentionally_ do. And he knew she wasn't a murderer. Which is why he had to find her before she did something stupid and rash.

"Sydney!" he called out again. "Syd!" He felt incredibly dumb yelling out her name in the middle of the street as if she would pop from behind a building and say, "Oh, hey, Stanley! How's it hanging?" But he didn't know what else to do. He didn't know of any specific place Sydney would run to for comfort besides her house. But he was sure she wouldn't go there to avoid questions from her mom and brother.

Stan slowed for a second, bending over to catch his breath. "Shit," he sighed, running his hands through his hair. He struggled to take good breaths, knowing he shouldn't be running with a binder on but fuck if he would take it off or stop looking for Syd.

He jumped when he felt a vibration in his back pocket and heard the instrumental to _Fly_ by Bloodwitch. His phone! Why hadn't he thought of using it before? Maybe he could call Sydney. It was probably a long shot but maybe she would answer. Stan fumbled for it just as it rang again, the large letters on the screen spelling out 'Mom.' 

"Ah, crap," he muttered. His mom probably had already been told what happened at the dance. "Hey, Mom," he said after hitting answer, putting on his best _everything is fine_ voice.

"Stanley, honey, are you alright?" Jenny Barber's worried voice came through the phone. "I heard— "

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he said quickly, cutting her off. "I wasn't there. I mean I was—I was there, but I didn't see what happened."

"Good." He could hear the relief in her voice. "Good, that's really good." It went quiet for a few seconds and just before he could say goodbye and hang up, his mom spoke again. "How are things at home? I'll be coming home in a few days then you'll be able to stay over. You and your dad been... been getting along?"

Stan dropped his head, nodding. "Yeah, yeah, things have been good." He wished he could tell his mom the truth. She knew that he and his dad had fights but she didn't know what happened after. The hitting, swearing, berating, black eyes, bruises. She was gone over seas even longer than his dad was gone so Stan's face and body were free reign to beat then. His dad didn't dare touch him when his mom was home, even if they weren't married anymore. He may be an asshole drunk, but he was smart enough to know if she ever found out then he would be in jail before he could say 'faggot.'

"When I get home we'll talk about... about what happened. And remember if you need to talk to someone let me or you dad know and we'll find someone, okay? There's the school counselor or we could find—"

"Okay, Mom, thanks," he said quickly. He appreciated what she was saying but he couldn't talk any longer. He needed to find Sydney. "I, um, I've got to go. I'll call you tomorrow." He hung up before she had a chance to respond.

Stan sighed before tapping his phone to show Sydney's number. He hesitated with his thumb over the call button, his anxiety settling in the pit of his stomach. What was he afraid of? Did he think Sydney would answer and laugh sadistically, say she murdered Brad in cold blood? Stanley shook his head. It was a ridiculous thought. He clicked call and listened as it rang. "C'mon, Sydney, c'mon," he whispered desperately.

When her voice came through he felt a rush of relief, though it was short lived. "Hey, this is Sydney, not sure why you're calling. No one answers phone calls anymore, send me a text."

" _Fuck!_ " Stan through his phone across the street in his anger and a split second later realized what he had done and went running after it. _Please don't be broken. Please don't be broken. Please don't be broken_ , he thought frantically. "Ah, man," he muttered as he turned it over to see a large crack had formed catty-cornered across the screen.

Defeated, Stanley let himself sink down unto the pavement and sat there cross-legged. He hung his head, not knowing what else to do. Where the hell could Sydney be? He was almost one hundred percent positive she wouldn't go home, so where else could she be? Running aimlessly through town? Surely not. He lifted his head and looked to the sky and just like some prayer induced miracle, Stan caught sight of a rapid flashing light. He laughed to himself at seeing exactly where it was coming from.

The watch tower.

He jumped up from the pavement and bolted in the direction of the light, hoping it would lead him to Sydney. 

When he reached the bottom of the tower, he looked up and saw the lights still flickering like a child had just discovered a light switch for the first time. He swallowed hard and began instinctively tapping his leg with his index and middle finger to calm himself. He wasn't sure why he did it, but it was something he had noticed himself doing a lot in the recent year or so. Sometimes when he was nervous or scared he would tap a part of his, mostly his leg or chest. He had even found he did it when listening to music, not that he was nervous while listening to music, but he could never really stop once he got started.

Stan finally took a deep breath and started climbing. Once he reached the top, he nearly stumbled back down the stairs at the scene in front of him. A man, nearly transparent, stood in front of Sydney, a cloud of black smoke swirling around him with his arm outstretched towards Sydney, who stood, staring blanking at him. Stanley felt a chill rise up his spine. He wasn't sure what the man was doing to her, but Stan could tell the man was hurting her. Sydney's skin seemed an ash color, like all her blood had simply vanished all at once. Stan felt anger rise in his chest.

He frantically looked at his surroundings for something, anything to attack with. His eyes landed on a single pipe laying amongst debris. He quickly picked it up and gathering courage, yelled at the man, who, in the moment, Stan could only rationally think of as a ghost. "H-hey, motherfucker!"

The Ghost Man turned around and Stan's heart leapt to his throat. His eyes were a void of black, making it seem like a demon was staring back at him. Something in his eyes were mesmerizing, capturing his attention in way nothing else had. He didn't want to look away.

He only snapped out of it as the pipe started slipping from his grasp. He tightened his grip and without thinking, chucked the pipe at the Ghost Man. Stan stepped back as the pipe went straight through him and the cloud of smoke consumed him as he disappeared from the watch tower. As soon as he was gone Stan saw Sydney collapse unto the rickety wood of the watch tower, the rapid flashing lights suddenly coming to an abrupt halt.

He dropped to the ground beside her and moved her blood stained hair from her face. "Syd? Hey, Sydney?" He shook her, but there was no response. _Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap_ , he thought, fear clouding his face. Stan continued to whisper to her, his voice starting to shake along with his body. God, what was he going to do? If Sydney didn't wake up—

 _No!_ he thought, shaking his head. She would wake up. She had to.

"Hey, Syd," he said again. He brought up his hand and wiped away the blood from her face. He nearly flinched away at the piercing cold of her skin. She felt like ice. Stan heard a twig snap and he jumped. He scanned around, heart thumping, hoping to God the Ghost Man didn't come back. 

Suddenly he heard groaning, causing him to jump again, though this time he felt relief rush over him as Sydney began moving around. "S-stan?" she said raspily, blinking slowly up at him through confused eyes. 

Stan let out a breath he hadn't even realized he was holding. "Yeah, yeah, I'm here." he chuckled a little as he helped her sit up. "And I fought a fucking ghost!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know stan's mom is never mentioned in the show and idk if she ever is in the graphic novel, but i thought i would incorporate her and i also needed more stuff in this chapter so yeah. jenny barber is here


	3. PART THREE // DINA GETS A VISIT

Her hands shook; they were ice cold. Like she had just dipped them in freezing water. Everything was passing by in a blur. Nothing was registering; the police questioning, food and water pushed into her lap, the car ride back home, her family bustling around her in a frenzy. She hadn't said a word, not even to the police. She was sure they would be back to talk to her but she wished they would leave her alone and never question her again. She didn't want to think about what happened anymore, though she couldn't get the picture out of her head. Brad's head blowing up before her eyes, like he had been shot with a rocket launcher.

She winced and shut her eyes tightly. What the fuck had just happened? What the _fuck_? She kept replaying the moment in her head. Brad acting like the ass she knew he was, outing Sydney, taunting her, hurting her. It didn't take a psychic to know that his words were hitting her like bricks, one after the other, brick after brick. Dina balled her fists at the thought. God, why was he such a fucking _asshole_? Their whole relationship it felt like she walked on egg shells and then he goes and acts like that to her? To Sydney? Her friend, her—

She uncurled her fists, not even realizing that her nails had dug crescents into her palm so deep that blood started slowly filling the dips. She didn't move when she felt a hand come to rest on her should and the seat beside her dip under the weight of someone.

A hand reached out to touch her cheek and softly pull her to look at them. Even though she was looking at them, she didn't register them. Everything in front of her was a blur. "Dina?" a distant voice said. "Dina, honey?" Was that her mom or dad? She tried to listen for a more masculine or feminine tone, but couldn't make it out. "Dina, I need you to talk to me, okay?"

"What's wrong with her? Is she alright?" another voice asked from behind her. That had to be her dad, he was always the one worrying about everything and she could make out the familiar concern laced in his voice.

"She's alright," the voice beside her, her mother, assured him. "She's just in shock."

Shock. She was in shock. That made sense. It explained why she could barely put a sentence together in her head. And even though she felt she could barely get any words out, Dina opened her mouth to speak, wanting her parents to go away so she could process her feelings alone. "Can you guys—can you guys leave?" It startled her how raspy her voice was, probably from the sobbing and screaming from just hours before. "I really just... want to be alone right now i-if that's okay."

"You sure, honey?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. We'll check on you in a little bit; yell if you need us." Her mom kissed her forehead and she felt the strong hand of her dad give her a slight shake on her shoulder. She heard their footsteps going higher and figured she must be in the basement. She didn't remember even stepping foot in her house, let alone going down a flight of stairs.

She sat there for a while, for how long she wasn't sure. She again replayed the nights events, over and over and over, trying to wrap her brain around it. Tears stung her eyes and blurred her vision. She immediately wiped them away. She didn't want to start crying again. It would just lead to uncontrollable sobbing and she didn't have the energy.

She heard a loud buzzing and saw her phone inching around the coffee table in front of the couch as it vibrated. Dina reached over and flipped it over, reading the words on the screen several times to process them. 'Stanley Barber' she finally made out. Wait, when had she given him her phone number? She shook her head. It didn't matter, she wasn't going to answer anyway. 

Dina tossed her phone onto the couch next to her. A second later it rang again. She tried to ignore it as it kept ringing three more times. Why wouldn't he just leave her alone? Couldn't he take a hint?

Just then, a loud, frantic banging came from the door down in the basement. Dina jumped clear off the couch, her heart thumping rapidly in her chest. She was about to call for her parents when a voice shouted from the other side of the door. "Dina!" She groaned. It was Stanley. "Dina, hey! Open the door, please!"

She sighed and moved closer to the door. As she did, she tried to muster up the energy to tell him to fuck off. "Stan," she said, "I'm not in the mood for visitors, okay? Can you please just—just go? We can talk later or something."

"No," he huffed out, sounding like he had just run a marathon, "I really can't. I— _we_ —need your help." Who the hell was 'we'? Dina's shoulder's slumped, defeated. It didn't really matter so long as she could get him to go away as soon as possible and maybe indulging him in whatever this was going to be was the way to do it.

She turned the lock of the door and pulled it open. She heard herself gasp at seeing Stanley standing on the other side of the door, holding Sydney in his arms bridal style. Sydney was holding onto his neck, shaking violently, her body still covered in blood from a few hours ago. "Oh, my God."

"I called you like seven times," Stan grunted, pushing past her. "I could barely get Sydney to tell me where you lived." Dina stood dumbly in the open doorway, watching Stan walking around the room, his eyes scanning intensely. "Hey, can you help get her out of this?"

Dina blinked. "Oh, yeah." She rushed over to them. "The bathroom's over here." She opened the door and led him in. He bent down over the tub and let Sydney's legs fall into it. He straightened and let go of her.

"I should probably..." He motioned out the door and raised his eyebrows. She had no idea what he was talking about. He nodded in the direction of Syd who still stood awkwardly in the tub, her eyes looking as though all the life had been sucked out of them.

Now she understood. "Right, yeah," she said, sliding out of his way. She turned her attention to Sydney and sighed.

"Alright, let's get you out of this." Dina helped her get undress and when she was done she started the bath water and Sydney sat down. At first she didn't move and Dina thought she would have the bathe her too. But she picked up the soap and started lathering her hair.

Dina back away from the tub and stood at the bathroom door, arms crossed. She eyed Stanley after a minute, who sat on her couch, head hanging. Blood stained his suit and she was sure that he would want to get out of it and rid himself of the stench. "Hey, Stan," she called from the bathroom, watching as Sydney slowly rubbed at her arms and blood poured off of her into the tub, making her wince. "If you want to get some fresh clothes on I'm sure there's some clothes in my brother's room that would fit. He's at college, he won't care."

"Uh, yeah." He nodded and clapped his hands on his legs before standing. "Um, do you wanna—?" He gestured up the stairs.

"Oh, no," Dina said, pointing to the corner of the basement, where a door was. "His room's right over there. He wanted as much privacy as possible so my parents had a room built down here so he would stop whining."

"Ah." Stan nodded again and walked out of view. Dina turned her attention back to Sydney, who still had a vacant look in her eyes, though she had finally managed to get her body clean. She held out her hand to her and for a few seconds, Dina didn't think she would take it, but eventually Syd grabbed unto it and she helped her up and handed her the towel so she could dry herself.

Dina made her way out to give her some privacy, but stopped. "Hey, you good?" Sydney's arms fell as she turned to look at her, though she wouldn't look her in the eyes. She nodded and Dina couldn't help but notice how stiff she had become. "You want me to leave?" She nodded again, then immediately turned away. She couldn't help but feel a little hurt; Syd used to talk to her no matter what and she didn't understand why tonight was an different.

She sighed and closed the bathroom door. She saw movement from the corner of her eye and looked over to see Stan walking out of Dylan's room. He had his arms up and a shirt over his head. Dina kept looking at him as something had caught her eye, not that she was transfixed by his body, but because she saw a nude colored binder across his chest just as he pulled the Hawaiian shirt on and shook his head, making his hair fly around.

Stan was trans? She had no idea. She hadn't been around him that much, but she definitely would never had known if she hadn't seen the binder. He came over and plopped down on the couch in front of her and that was when she got a good look at the shirt he had picked. "Cannabis, huh? How appropriate."

He chuckled and held up his hands. "It's subtle enough I could where it out and the unsuspecting eye wouldn't think a thing of it, _but_ for my paying costumers—"

"Or people who look closely at the shirt."

"—they'll know what I'm about."

Dina rolled her eyes and laughed along with him. "Hey," he said, dropping his smile immediately, "do you have a lighter? I left mine in my dad's car."

"If you get high in my parents basement, they will hunt you down and kill you."

"It's not for that," he said quickly. "I need... I need to get rid of something."

Dina dropped her arms. She wanted to ask, but she was also scared to. "Yeah, yeah, just give me a second." She walked over to the shelves and grabbed a box full of her dad's tchotchkes, rummaging through it until she found a matchbox. "Here." She tossed it to him.

He jumped up from the couch and jogged back into her brother's room. Stan came out a second later with a book in his hand. She watched him drop the book into an empty trash can next to her before taking out a match. "Is that—" She squinted. "—is that Sydney's _diary?_ "

He didn't look at her as he responded, just at the book as it was being engulfed in flames. "The police would wonder why it had Brad's blood on it and then they would trace it back to her."

Dina cut her eyes at him. "So? Why does that matter?"

"Because then they would read it," Stan sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Dina shifted her feet uncomfortably. "What's the harm in that? I mean, no one wants a random person to read their diary, but..." She trailed off as the door to the bathroom opened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i will not, and i mean NOT, let anyone forget stan is trans and if you do i will steal your toes. that is a threat


	4. PART FOUR // THE TRUTH ISN'T ALWAYS BETTER

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you'd think i would have gotten this chapter done quicker cause of quarantine but no. i'm too lazy so it's taken months fjvaksh hope y'all enjoy

Sydney liked to be high. Why wouldn't she? It took all the guilt and fear and shame off her shoulders for just a little while and let her be free, despite everything she had been through.  
  
_Man_ , she could go for a joint right about now.

Sydney stared at herself in the bathroom mirror, anger rising into her throat. She could only see a murderer in front of her. A tear fell down her cheek and she immediately wiped it away, clenching her jaw.

The smell of smoke filled her nostrils and confusion crossed her face. What the hell were they doing out there?

Sydney opened the bathroom door to find out and saw Dina and Stan standing side by side, talking to each other. Smoke rose from inside the trash can they stood by. She had no idea what that had been doing but instead of asking, she glanced up at their faces.

Stan had a hard expression and Dina looked almost confused. Sydney's chest tightened; she couldn't help but feel like Stan had already told her what happened. The thought made her feel queasy.

"Syd!" she heard Dina say as she turned around. She and Stan rushed over to her. "Hey, are you okay?" Sydney looked Dina in the eyes for the first time since she had gotten there and immediately her vision blurred with tears. "Syd, hey," she whispered, "what's wrong? What's going on?"

"I'm sorry," she muttered, unable to stop herself. "I'm sorry, I—Dina..." 

She kept repeating herself over and over and she could feel Dina's concern growing. Sydney couldn't even imagine how confusing it was for her; to see her babbling and crying and saying she was sorry with no explanation. Dina stepped towards her, her face contorted with a million different emotions, and reached her hand out to touch her, comfort her, but Sydney jerked away. She could feel the shock and upset radiating from her. She almost regretted it, she craved the touch of her best friend, the girl she loved, but she didn't deserve it, not after what she had done tonight.

"Sydney, please talk to me."

"I—I'm sorry, Dina. I fucked up—"

"Sydney, you don't have to talk about it." Both she and Dina darted their gaze at him. Sydney knew why he said it, unlike Dina, who looked as though she could split him in half with her eyes.

She shook her head vigorously, her curls bouncing. "No, I want you to talk to me. You have to talk to me." She kept her distance this time, but now Sydney wished she would reach out and touch her.

Bile rose in the back of her throat as Dina kept her gaze trained on her. She could feel Stan looking at her as well, and she knew he was silently telling her this was her choice. She didn't have to tell Dina what really happened. But as much as she wished that were true, she knew she had to. She couldn't live with her best friend not knowing what really happened. "I killed him."

She heard Stanley exhale sharply and she tensed, waiting for Dina's reaction. Instead of a blow up she only heard her confused voice. "What? Killed who?" Sydney looked down and shut her eyes tightly. "Syd, what are you talking about, killed _who_?"

"I..."

"Sydney, you d—"

"Brad. I killed Brad, Dina. I—I killed him."

Dina gave out a loud laugh, startling both her and Stan. "Sydney, you couldn't have kill him." She took a step toward her again and this time Sydney didn't move away. She placed a hand on her shoulder and looked deep into her eyes. "Listen, I don't know what the hell happened tonight. I don't know how Brad died, but you didn't cause it, okay?"

Sydney shook her head, pulling away from Dina. "No, you don't understand. I killed him! I know it, Stanley knows it." Dina shot another look at Stan who only gave her a hesitant nod. She could hear her voice growing louder and louder as she tried to convince Dina of the truth.

"I can _do_ things," she said desperately. "Things other people can't."

Dina's face was filled with fear. Sydney wasn't sure if it was because she believed her or if she believed she was a lunatic.

Sydney's eyes darted around the room for something to safely move so she could prove it to her. She ended up deciding that the couch would be something that you couldn't blame on thin wires. 

Sydney focused all her energy on it, willing it to move off the ground. She knew she probably looked ridiculous, staring at it intensely like she was furious with it. After a moment there was a _screech_ as one end of the couch lifted and the other scraped against the ground before taking off. She moved it around them in a circle a few times before putting it back down.

Dina seemed frozen in time, the only movements she made were slow breaths and the occasional blink. For what felt like an eternity no one said anything. Stanley kept looking between them, his fingers tapping rhythmically against his legs.

Finally, Sydney broke the silence: "Say something, please."

"H-how long have you been able to do that?" Dina looked up at her and Sydney could see her eyes were glasses over with tears that were threatening to escape.

She took a deep breath and crossed her arms over her chest protectively. "Only a few months. I think my dad could—I think he could do it too."

A beat. "So you what, can do it when you want? You just... did you just _decide_ t-to kill Brad?"

It was almost like a punch to the gut. "No!" she said quickly. "I-I..." Sydney trailed off, trying to find the words to say to convince her she didn't mean to do it, but falling short. Did she not mean to or didn't she truly want him to die?

"Sometimes her emotions cause her powers to do things she doesn't want them to," Stanley jumped in, surprising Sydney. She had forgotten he was even there. "When she gets mad or upset they can kind of blow up." Stanley flinched and hung his head. "Poor choice of words, sorry."

Dina put her head in her hands and turned away from them, her chest heaving with heavy breath. She was on the verge of hyperventilating. After a second she composed herself a bit. "Please, go." was all she said through gritted teeth.

"Dina, please," Sydney pleaded, a sharp pain rippling through her at the coldness and anger Dina was directing at her.

"No, I just... I need you to go, okay?"

She could feel it before it happened. The power inside her surged, flowing through her like a bullet. Suddenly the shelf of tools in front of Dina went crashing to the ground and the lights above broke, sending glass to the ground.

Sydney heard Dina scream and Stanley say 'fuck', but she didn't move a inch. She stood still, her body tense, tears streaming down her face.

"Dina?" Dina's father yelled from upstairs followed by footsteps. "Dina, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Dad!" she yelled back, her voice quivering ever so slightly. "I just hit the shelf and scared myself!"

She spun back around to them, but didn't look at either of them. "You need to go."

"Dina, I'm so sorry."

" _Now_."

Sydney felt Stan's arm wrap around her gently. "C'mon," he whispered, leading her away from Dina. As soon as she set foot outside her house she crumbled into his arms and started sobbing.


	5. PART FIVE // GOT GUILT?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw suicide attempt ? i'll just say nothing happens but there's the thoughts and it almost becomes an attempt

Stan sat, twirling his pen between his fingers. Bite marks lined the cap from his anxious habit he had during class. Sydney sat, curled up against the wall, her head resting on her arms.

It had been over a week since Brad had died and Sydney had told Dina the truth about what happened. Neither one of them had heard from her, though Syd hadn't tried. Stan had done his best to get in contact with her and leave her messages, trying to persuade her to talk to Sydney. He was worried about her; she was spiraling more and more as the days went on, shutting down, crying.

Sydney's mom had come to the bowling alley a couple of days after that night, while he was working and asked for him, asking for his help.

"I can't get through to her," she had said, frustrated, leaning on the counter. "And I'm just... I'm so worried. Dina won't come over, but I know she's dealing with a lot, too so I don't blame her." She sighed and put her head in her hands. After a few seconds of silence, she looked up at him. "Could you—could you please come see her? She really just needs a friend right now."

He put down the shoes he had been holding and bit at his lip. He hadn't been able to reach Sydney yet; she wouldn't answer any of his phone calls and his mother hadn't let him go anywhere but work.

"Yeah," he nodded, "I will, Ms. N."

And now here he was, awkwardly sitting with Sydney who would barely say more than three words at a time. He had to sneak out because he knew his mother would blow a fuse if she knew he went anywhere. As much as he appreciated her worry, he wished she was a little less intense about it.

"She hates me."

Stan looked up at Sydney, still clinging to herself in the corner. "No," he shook his head, "she doesn't. She needs time, okay? You dropped a bombshell, she'll come around." 

Her shoulders started shaking and Stan grimaced. He understood _why_ she was crying, though it didn't make it any less awkward. He slid off the couch and unto the floor next to her, wrapping her in a firm hug.

"Everything will be okay," he reassured. But he could tell it did nothing to ease her worry. "I'm sorry." He didn't know what else to say.

They sat with him still holding her for a while. When Stan finally moved to get up, he decided to check the time and instead saw dozens of calls and messages from his mom. "Shit, shit, shit," he groaned. 

He stood abruptly, frantically. If he didn't go now she would break down the door of everyone he knew until she found him. "I'm so sorry, Syd, my mom—"

"Just go," she said hoarsely and Stan felt a pang in his chest. He hated leaving her now but if his mom found him here she would probably never let him come back.

"I'll call you first thing in the morning, okay?" But there was no response.

Stan climbed back out the way he came and disappeared into the night.

* * *

Sydney stood in front of her mirror, gritting her teeth, one hand clutching her sink and the other clutching a pill bottle.

She could do this. She could do this. All she had to do was take them. Sydney unscrewed the top, her stomach twisting and started to pour them into her hands.

But she stopped. What if it didn't work, what then? Would the police think anything of it? Would they connect it to Brad? Chalk it up to guilt? Trauma? Frankly, Sydney didn't care what they thought after she was dead, she just wanted to make sure it worked.

Brad's headless body flashed into her mind and she started lowering the bottle. Maybe that could work. Maybe if she blew up her head like she had done to Brad, it would be a sure way to make sure she never came back.

"Syd?" Liam's soft voice drifted into the bathroom, startling her. She dropped the bottle and the pills spilled, rolling everywhere.

"Fuck," she growled, furiously grabbing them and shoving them back into the bottle. "Yeah, Liam?" Her voice trembled, yet still somehow sounded angry and bitter.

"Someone's at the door."

"Who is it?"

"How should _I_ know? I'm not allowed to open the door when Mom's not home."

Sydney's eyebrows furrowed and she squinted. "Since when do you care about what Mom says?"

"Since now," he said shortly. She could hear him shuffling him feet. "Since I don't want to open the door."

 _God_. Sydney swung open the door to the bathroom, leaving the bottle hidden behind the toilet. She pushed past him. "You're such an asshole." It came out a little too aggressively, but she didn't stop to apologize.

When she got to the door she prepared herself to yell at whoever was on the otherside. Could she not just kill herself in _peace_?

But she never got the chance, because when she swung open the door she nearly fell back in shock.

In front of her stood Dina, looking nearly as tired and disheveled as she did. They stayed silent for a moment, Dina, face blank and unreadable and Sydney, face pale with fear and confusion.

Suddenly Dina tossed something at her and she fumbled trying to catch it. When she turned it over she saw the familiar cat on the front, her whole body started trembling and her legs when numb.

It was her diary. Dina had her diary.

_Oh, fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter fucking sucks im so sorry lmao


	6. FUCK NETFLIX

sorry this isnt the last chapter but i have to just say FUCK netflix for canceling ianowt :')

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> netflix is homophobic confirmed


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